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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27521143">Late Afternoon Drifting</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fallenfae/pseuds/Fallenfae'>Fallenfae</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Warriors - Erin Hunter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alzheimer's Disease, Angst, Deaf, Deaf Character, Dementia, Memory Loss</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-08 05:22:42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,908</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27521143</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fallenfae/pseuds/Fallenfae</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>What's it like to live a long life?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Late Afternoon Drifting</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Update - the person who this was originally for turned out to be a huge asshole, so while I’m keeping this up, Let’s all pretend this ain’t for them :)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I remember being a lad.</p><p> </p><p>I remember the rush of it all. The need to finish everything, to rush through kithood and through my apprenticeship. How silly it is, to want to live life waving past the most important parts. Foolish of me. But nevertheless, I was a child.</p><p> </p><p>I've travelled the world now. Seen what I can, heard what I could before that was taken from me. I seem to have let it slip past me just how beautiful sound is. Now I have nothing but a sound track on repeat, with the selection only being my faded, foggy memories.</p><p> </p><p>Isn't that an interesting thought?</p><p> </p><p>I remember. I remember the journey through rough snowy mountains, and just how cool to the touch the snow was, and I recall complaining for warmth. I remember my mother's amused call as she beckoned me over, the warmth in her eyes as she held me close and keeping away the ruthless cold away at the expense of her own warmth - preoccupying the both of us with silly stories that Firestar tried to hush out of us at midnight. It didn't work. We giggled ourselves to sleep, and to be frank, held back the entire clan the next morning - much to Firestar's dismay. His stink eye was quite the treat to see. </p><p> </p><p>What I recall now is that I never bothered to listen to the soft crunch of the snow beneath my feet, or the geese overhead flying north in such graceful formations, calling out in harmonies I've never dreamt of before. Perhaps then I might have never minded the still off-white ground kissing the light of dawn, and the crevices in the ground making way for melted snow and offering quiet, subtle harmonic splashes.  I never stopped to appreciate the quiet beauty of it all, how even the whitest of snow was greyer in the distance. Paler. I'm here now to enjoy it, though my mother does not share this experience with me. I hope she can in another world. </p><p> </p><p>The world is quiet without you now, mom. </p><p> </p><p>Birdwatching is how I pass my time now. Perhaps I might not be able to hear their calls anymore, but I like to think that if i listen close enough, one day I will.</p><p> </p><p>One day, I will.</p><p> </p><p>It's not as snowy down here during the winter. Just a chill compared to the mountains. I seldom find it irritating, though. It's a soft sight. Sitting out in the world, truly living for something - just to be an eye. Just to let it go by with witness to it all. No, not much could stop me. Not at all. I am strong, and though my clanmates might baby me for things I can easily withstand, I don't let them take this away from me.</p><p> </p><p>I've withstood the test of battles and wars, of nicks and scratches and lost. I can withstand the test of time.</p><p> </p><p>~~~</p><p> </p><p>"Leafpool? Birdwatcher isn't doing so well." Jaypaw trotted into the medicine den, brows furrowed as he awkwardly shuffled his paws. "He didn't seem to like the fire I lit for him."</p><p> </p><p>Leafpool turned from sorting herbs, amber eyes grazing over the defeated apprentice. She could almost feel the uncertain tensity in the air. It could have been what made her shiver. She blamed it on the cold. "He's been to cooler climates than a simple winter. He's alright." She tried convincing herself more so than Jaypaw. "He was one of the older warriors during the great journey. Doesn't he tell you?"</p><p> </p><p>Jaypaw flicked his tail in dismay. "Gosh, I <i>wish</i> he'd tell me anything at all. He's always so quiet. It's almost scary." His heart sank for the old tom, creaking bones and graying fur, though convinced himself that Birdwatcher was still relatively young for an elder. He was fine. Just deaf.</p><p> </p><p>Leafpool arched a brow quizzically. "Jaypaw, he hardly knows when he's prompted to speak at all. I know it might be difficult for you to communicate, what with your differences, but he's a fine cat if you get him to start talking."</p><p> </p><p>Jaypaw's mood grew sour at this. "I'm not learning a lousy sight-based language to talk to an elder who'll chatter my ear off twice as much as Purdy does!" Perhaps this was unfair. But Jaypaw didn't much care anymore. He'd warm up the dumb old tom and get things over with. He hardly bothered listening to whatever Leafpool had to say before storming out of the medicine den, stormy-minded.</p><p> </p><p>Jaypaw squirmed out of the tight-knit secret exit, thinking it a quicker route to where Birdwatcher had been lounging all day.  <i>Pfft. Lazy toad. Why can't he do something instead of eat up all the resources for a change?</i></p><p> </p><p>But when he'd got there, Birdwatcher was gone. </p><p> </p><p>~~~</p><p> </p><p>The ice crackles beneath my feet, and I strain my ears to hear it, to no avail. There is no disappointment when you try. Especially not when the little crackles slide you forth into the icy lake, midway in and the frost nicks at my pads just a little too harshly, just a little too much. But it is so soothing. I lose myself here. Reminds me of my mother, sometimes. </p><p> </p><p>She was quite the kind cat. During the colder months she brought me out, just to forget the death and sorrow out on this very lake. It was a treat, even when Brambleclaw would yell at us to come back to shore. She'd always respond, "You aren't the deputy just yet!". I miss her voice.</p><p> </p><p>We'd slide and jump and frolic, and she taught me just the right way to support my weight and keep up to her, and we'd forget. Together. Together.</p><p> </p><p>I relish in the memory, just remembering for a while. The crystalline snowflakes flutter down to touch against my nose, and I sneeze. Sniffing, I shiver against the cool air in my lungs now, prickling at my insides. I recoil, slipping against the ice, unbalanced as I hit the frosted lake and drift in circles. When I come to a slow halt, I think that perhaps I should go home.</p><p> </p><p>
  <i>Together.</i>
</p><p> </p><p>…</p><p> </p><p>I remember summer in the forest territories. When the snow thawed and all the little critters came out, and the days sailed past so softly. It may have been busier, and I may have been positively obsessed with getting medicine cat duties just right, but it was fun. I oft look back on those times just to throw my ego a bone. I wish more people would ask.</p><p> </p><p>Truthfully, I don't like summer much. They were filled with august woes and sorrows, and although my childhood summers were quite a treat, they grew sour as I grew older. I much prefer spring or autumn. The birds come out then.</p><p> </p><p>My mother died in summer.</p><p> </p><p>She lived a nice, long life. Good for a cat her age. And to be honest, I don't much mind the grieving anymore. It's long since passed its peak. I'm just grateful she never had to witness the mess Thunderclan's become. </p><p> </p><p>She had her good times. She had simply met with her old age. </p><p> </p><p>I remember her in her nest gently wheezing for breath, and her eyes were glossy. She put her paw on my face, caressing me softly. She told me something.</p><p> </p><p>I regret this deeply. I regret not hearing her. I couldn't. Perhaps that is why I grew so bitter; that a cat as important to me as she was spoke her last words to me and I could not hear anything but a soft, whining ring in my head. A quiet whining ring. A whining ringing.</p><p> </p><p>I'd noticed it for a while. I just refused to acknowledge it. </p><p> </p><p>I resented it then. I went to all the places she raised me, and it never helped. She was never there. Only the ghost of her past presence remained. I resented it then. I don't anymore. I find solace in the look she gave me before her final moments. A quiet look that told me all I needed to know. I miss you. I miss her.</p><p> </p><p>It took a lot of convincing, and it really was quite the struggle with all this grump and awful moods, but Firestar eventually granted me Leafpool after Cinderpelt's death. She might have earned her name, but she still had some to learn, and I had lots of free time. I think it was out of pity. I don't mind it either way. I don't remember her much...I wish I did. Everytime I see her now, it's like seeing someone I <i>should</i> remember and the sense of the good old days wash over me, where I'd listen to her ramble for hours when Cinderpelt was upset with her. What ever was she talking about? Something about crows. I like crows.</p><p> </p><p>~~~</p><p> </p><p>"Birdwatcher?" Leafpool waved her paw in front of his face, and only then he was alerted. He seemed a bit dreamy lately, slurred his words and eyes were always glassy. She tried not to blame him; everyone in Thunderclan mourned the loss of his mother, and he'd had some interesting side effects to it all. The tan tom never seemed focused with his surroundings anymore. Always mumbling.</p><p> </p><p>He blinked, then offered no more than a curious glance to the apprentice. "Hey kiddo. Didn't see ya there." Birdwatcher smiled, though it did nothing to soothe Leafpool's concerns. He still seemed so off. Tilting her head, she sighed. "You asked me to meet you here."</p><p> </p><p>"Come again?" The tom strained his ears, whiskers twitching curiously. He seemed oblivious to the she-cats growing worries, and it only led her to bristle her fur. Ir might have only sparked her fears further, but she repeated herself again, louder this time. "You wanted to meet me here."</p><p> </p><p>"Did I?" Birdwatcher chuckled airily, though Leafpool could tell his mind was preoccupied. Perhaps she should let him rest. He might not have been that old just yet, but his well-being meant much to her. He was always there, always in the medicine den, helping even Spottedleaf. Leafpool wondered if there could have been anything between them, but through researching the older memories of a younger Birdwatcher, it didn't seem like he was much invested in that kind of intimacy. Perhaps she wished he would, just so it wouldn't bother her to see him so lonesome all the time. Always in a different world.</p><p> </p><p>"Nevermind." She meowed, at a tone just loud enough that he did not need to flick his ears to hear. Birdwatcher shrugged, returning to his nest and lounging about. Leafpool pondered for half a moment if he ever really cared at all.</p><p> </p><p>~~~</p><p> </p><p>You know, I've never much wanted kits. That Leafpool was the closest thing I got to real family. I'd been somewhat of a 'false' medicine cat, and even if no one took my duties seriously, I still had some fondness for it. I'd follow the rules either way, even if I'd never wanted to start a family.</p><p> </p><p>As a younger tom, I could say I had the urge every now and then to have an intimate relationship. Never knew <i>who</i> with, exactly. </p><p> </p><p>I didn't mind it, though. I found the compassion and love of caring for my clanmates to be enough.</p><p> </p><p>Today is a nice day. The summer breeze is cool. I find it to be refreshing. The sunrays falling against fur and plants, the lush valleys swaying in the wind. Every creature can find peace here. The world can be quite astonishing when you first peek over the horizon to see nature without the haze of discontent. I find myself in that stage often. Not much is expected of me anymore. Not much at all.</p><p> </p><p>Yes, the world is quite astonishing. When you see the little simple things, you fall in love with it. The astonishing world. The larger world becomes so much more fulfilling, and the sense of everything being one again bubbles up in your chest. Even in rain you can find the prettiest of solitudes.</p><p> </p><p>Most cats don't like getting wet. Well! I say it's natural, and their furry little bottoms can stay dry for all I care. </p><p> </p><p>I recognize this feeling. I did this before, certainly, but it's more of a vague recollection. Someone with me. Someone with me here in the rain, chasing me and laughing. It's a nice memory, but it fades with static in my mind and I'm left in a dazed fog. Ah, well, old age does that to you, doesn't it? No matter.</p><p> </p><p>I never wanted a family. Not a love, either. Maybe a form of love, but not many would like an old grouch like me. Mousefur might not mind, but I'm deaf. Not blind. And she certainly has a thing for that ol' Longtail. Cute, but not my thing. I'll stay out here all day; that is where I find my solace. Even as a half-warrior, I wasn't much of a charmer. More irritating, really. It's a fun memory. I remember. I remember. </p><p> </p><p>Ah well. This'll have to do.</p><p> </p><p>~~~</p><p> </p><p>"He's getting frailer. I don't think it would be in our best interest to let him out with tensions this high." Jayfeather explained, tail twitching irritably. He found it unnerving to hear Birdwatcher was outside again, constantly. Not even within sight range anymore. And while Firestar seemed absolutely convinced that Birdwatcher was a capable adventurer, whatever that meant, Jayfeather still found it discomforting. Especially when he was babied for the same thing.</p><p> </p><p>Firestar shook his head. "He's fine. He's younger than most cats' oldest ages."</p><p> </p><p>"But he's older than Longtail and Mousefur. How is that fair?" Jayfeather protested, much to the curiosity of Firestar. "I don't see why that matters. Different cats are capable of different things." Firestar retorted, eyeing the medicine cat down. "You should be a lot kinder to the poor tom. He's seen much beyond his moons, and yet no one comes around to ask."</p><p> </p><p>"Don't try to guilt trip me, Firestar. I'm looking out for his safety." Jayfeather snorted. "Unless you'd like for him to break a leg out there and be unable to call for help?"</p><p> </p><p>"Jayfeather, I'll see what I must do. For now, you keep your nose where it belongs." </p><p> </p><p>He nudged Jayfeather out of his den, barely taking him seriously. The silver tom scoffed, flicking his ears back and complying. Hopefully things would change.</p><p> </p><p>~~~</p><p> </p><p>It's dreadfully dull in here. The drab stone and the warm scent of drowsy sleep day by day wasn't much to spark excitement. Mousefur and Purdy didn't seem to mind it, though. Longtail was long gone. I never tried to get to know him, how could a blind cat and a deaf cat communicate anyway? It was sad, in a pathetic sort of way.</p><p> </p><p>I wish Mousefur would at least try to speak to me. I don't know about Purdy, though. By the looks of things, he seems to yapper his mouth off whenever anyone enters this forsaken den, even when he's alone. He looks at me once or twice, but never keeps eye contact. Perhaps the others think I'm a burden.</p><p> </p><p>Time flowed stiffly in here. I long for fields and sun, but here there is nothing but a soft bluish glow from the already dulled sun, and no warmth reaches me at all. Nothing but the warmth of preoccupied elders stenching up the place. At some point in my stay here, I found myself staring at that same wall. Over and over. I memorized cracks and chips in the stone, and the only sense of excitement I had was when I'd found a sprout of moss between the crack one day.</p><p> </p><p>No, I never liked this place. Not at all. Not Purdy's chattering, not the cracks in the stone, not the bluish glow.</p><p> </p><p>I don't like it at all. All it does is eat up valuable...valuable time.</p><p> </p><p>…</p><p> </p><p> ...What day is it?</p><p> How much time has passed? Without the visual cues of the sun this deep into the den, I could never tell. It's a little depressing, isn't it? I don't know what I did last time I was out of this hellhole. I don't even know what the outside looked like at this point. </p><p> </p><p>I'm glad she never had to experience this.</p><p> </p><p>~~~</p><p> </p><p>Icepaw gagged at the dreary sight when she'd entered the den. She wasn't ever here often, just to pass on prey, and even then she'd never stuck around long. Foxpaw must have, though. He was always getting into trouble.</p><p> </p><p>"Birdwatcher?" Icepaw shuffled in awkwardly, fur bristling. Mousefur stretched and yawned, giving the apprentice a lazy, half-lidded glance. "He's deaf, dear." Swiftly realizing her mistake, she blushed and chuckled nervously. "R-right! I knew that." Trying to avoid eye contact, she slithered deeper into the den, stepping on moss and gagging internally. She couldn't so much as <i>imagine</i> being forced to live here every day of her life. </p><p> </p><p>She awkwardly stared at the beige tom's hunched figure, and she realized just how greyed he'd become. From crooked whiskers to whiting fur along his muzzle, she felt a surge of pity for the poor elder. The last time she'd seen him out was early in her apprenticeship. She cleared her throat, before using her tail-tip to soothingly tap the tom out of his nap.</p><p> </p><p>Birdwatcher sniffled and snorted, grumbling himself out of his sleep. "W-what..--?" He slurred. Icepaw winced. She pressed her side to his, guiding him up. She never knew <i>how</i> exactly everyone else communicated with him, but she knew it certainly wasn't by word of mouth. She had to physically cue him out.</p><p> </p><p>It seemed he'd gotten the message. He'd followed without trouble. And by the time he took his first step into the light, Icepaw cringed internally at the pitiful sight. She hadn't realized just how thin and fragile he'd become, much unlike his peers. His eyes were sunken and there was this particular gleam in them that made him look glossy and unpresent. Time had not treated him well.</p><p> </p><p>Leafpool stood at the edge of camp, eyeing the two of them as they made their way over. Perhaps she was not a medicine cat anymore, but she still deserved respect. Icepaw pinned her ears back as she approached. "Here ya go." She offered.</p><p> </p><p>"Thank you, Icepaw." Leafpool purred in gratitude, dipping her head as the apprentice left. Then, her eyes met Birdwatcher's unfocused ones. She smiled weakly.</p><p> </p><p>"W-who are yahh? I was sleepin', ya know." Birdwatcher grumbled irritably, and Leafpool felt a melancholy wash over her. He didn't recognize her. She flicked her tail to and fro, her ears along with them. Birdwatcher's eyes immediately lit up as he recognized the pattern. <i>Let's go outside.</i></p><p> </p><p>He grinned before bursting into a fit of wheezing chuckles. </p><p> </p><p>Mm. This was nice.</p><p> </p><p>~~~</p><p> </p><p>I'm pretty sure that was an angel. A pretty little she-cat, for sure. Why would a cat like that care for me? I must be dead. Gosh, I wish they'd let you have your hearing after you die. I don't even remember when I died. Ah, well. Things will happen.</p><p> </p><p>The outside was so pretty. Why haven't I ever been out here before? There was so much to see, from the prickling grass against my paw pads to the birds hopping in the distance. I recognized one as a swallow, but the others passed me by. Soon, we were at the shore of the <i>biggest</i> body of water I'd ever seen.</p><p> </p><p>It was so magical. Shimmering in the sunlight and rippled. The closest I'd ever gotten to seeing anything like this were the puddles that gathered in front of the elder's den when it rained. The brown she-cat twitched her tail. <i>I'm..</i> ...she pointed towards a leaf, then the water. I grinned. "Leaflake? What a pretty name."</p><p> </p><p>She shook her head. <i>Smaller. Remember?</i> I cocked a brow, confused. Whatever this she-cat meant, she was playin' me like a fool. "If I knew a kitty like you in my life, I'm ab-so-lute-ly positive I'd remember." </p><p> </p><p>She looked defeated. Dejected. I'd feel bad for the child if I knew what exactly she was expecting. Perhaps <i>her</i> memory had gone bad, mistaking me for her father or something. Whatever the case, I'm as snappy as ever.</p><p> </p><p>We sat together in silence for a while after that. She may be witless, but she was good company.</p><p> </p><p>I don't know how long we were out. I do know that we swam, we rolled, we played. It reminded me of my kithood, somehow. Muddled memories made sense by emotion, by feelings. She particularly liked pointing out different types of birds. I don't know what it is about those critters, but I find them so interesting. Perhaps she knew. Maybe she could read minds.</p><p> </p><p>"You know," I started, "I used to study birds! Time does slip me by though, hardly remember a lick of 'em." The she-cat did not respond, only listen with eyes on me and wrinkles beneath them. She looked tireless. I pitied the poor fool for lettin' a caged bird out and chasing it anyway. She nodded, flicking her ears. <i>I used to come with you.</i></p><p> </p><p>I rolled my eyes. Why was she so desperate to have me believe in such bluffs? "I don't know what yer playin' at missy, but if I remembered someone like you, I'd know." I furrowed my brows before coughing out.</p><p> </p><p>Ouch. My throat hurts. This one's bad.</p><p> </p><p>…</p><p> </p><p>...Real bad.</p><p> </p><p>~~~</p><p> </p><p>"I don't think he remembers me." Leafpool sighed. "He called me Leaflake. Though that one might have been a misunderstanding. He kept insisting he's never seen me before." Her ears drooped, and Firestar twitched his nose quizzically. "Perhaps the den confinement did him worse than I intended…"</p><p> </p><p>"You think?" Leafpool snarked. "He could barely breathe in that air! He was always wheezing." She pressed cold moss against the elder's forehead, doing Jayfeather's job for him. She knew for certain he never liked poor Birdwatcher. Firestar watched regretfully, feeling the responsibility weigh heavily over his shoulders. He recalled a strong warrior, aged from battles beyond what he could ever experience. Birdwatcher was far older than him. Where was that tom? It's like he was replaced with a depleted, dying version of himself.</p><p> </p><p>Maybe this was his fault.</p><p> </p><p>~~~</p><p> </p><p>I don't….I don't feel much.</p><p> </p><p>I can't. </p><p> </p><p>I don't feel my limbs nor my throat. It's all numb. Did I tucker myself out? What...what happened?</p><p> </p><p>Mm. An angel and some birds. Huge lake. <i>Something</i> happened. Where has my memory gone?</p><p> </p><p>...No. Starclan, no. Don't tell me this is happening a second time.</p><p> </p><p>I was a lad. I hated the fact I was going deaf. I don't want to lose my memory, too.</p><p> </p><p>It was always <i>I remember, I remember.</i> Never <i>I forgot.</i></p><p> </p><p>That poor she-cat. Was I really her father? I can barely open my eyes to see. I hate this. I hate this. I hate being a lump of something clinging to life. I hate not being able to remember, I hate not being able to hear or see or move. I was always a burden. That's why they put me in the elder's den.</p><p> </p><p>I've lived through fires. I've lived through wars and famines and death. I've lived through everything. But I can't remember. I can't remember. I can't remember. </p><p> </p><p>Why can't I?</p><p> </p><p>I can't remember.</p><p> </p><p>….that's alright.</p><p> </p><p>Relax. </p><p> </p><p>Act your old age.</p><p> </p><p>This won't hurt.</p>
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